How often do we miss opportunities to go the extra mile in our interactions with others?

Our weekend basketball adventure is done; and we are back from the land of tournament to the real world of work and school and schedules.  Ivy’s team fared well in their first games together, winning two games and losing two.  They learned a lot about themselves this weekend, both as individuals and as a group united by a common goal.  In sports language, I could probably give more than several examples of what it means to go the extra mile; but the incident I want to share with you happened after the last game.  It took place in the parking lot as the gym was emptying and we prepared to make our trip home.

In the fourth game of the tournament, Ivy had a moment.  You know what a moment is, right?  It’s one of those times that just stays with you long after it takes place — sometimes etched in your memory for a lifetime.  My granddaughter is not a very tall player, and her ball-handling and shooting skills are the ones that people notice when she plays.  Her moment took place during a break toward the hoop.  The ball went up, and so did Ivy, and my 5′ 3″ girl grabbed that rebound, pulled it down, and with one fluid motion took the ball right back up and sank it — right in the basket of the opposing team.  In an instant, as the spectators gasped in unison, she realized what she had done.  And so her moment was created, etched forever in her record of basketball accomplishments.

I’m happy to say that she was able to recover and redeem herself with other contributions to her team’s ultimate victory.  There is no doubt that Ivy will continue to play basketball; and since she will continue to play, there is no doubt that she will continue to make mistakes.  After her moment, however, I think we can be certain that she won’t make this particular mistake again.

It is easy for a young person to become discouraged by a moment like this one; and I’m sure that Ivy still is replaying that shot in her mind today.  What might make it just a little easier was another moment in the parking lot after the game.  We were opening the minivan when a voice called out from another car, “Hey!  You’re really good!”  We turned to see one of the two referees who had officiated at five games that day.  This man had every reason to be tired and to be ready to go home at the end of his long afternoon.  Instead, he caught Ivy’s attention.  ”You know,” he said, “there’s no need to be upset about what happened in there.  Everyone who plays makes mistakes.”  He went on to tell her the story of Chris Webber, the player from University of Michigan who called a time-out during an NCAA championship game, only to find out that his team had used all of theirs.  The points scored by North Carolina due to his technical foul clinched the game; and Webber’s moment became one that I’m sure he would like to forget.  In sports, as in the rest of life, there are no do-overs; and we carry with us the results of our moments — the bad ones and the great ones.  Who and what we become often is shaped by the way we carry those moments; and the ref wanted to say that to a young player he never had met.

Of all the extra miles people traveled during the tournament, I will remember the official who chose at the final moment of our day to go the extra mile and encourage my granddaughter.  I’m sure he would say that it was nothing at all, but it meant the world to me.